Action and Consequence
by Sealgirl
Summary: A short two part story, where one of the gang makes a choice that changes the path of Realm history in an unexpected way.
1. Chapter 1 Action

DISCLAIMER - Guess what! i don't own these characters or made any cash from them, only the writing is mine.

STORY - Set a fairly long time after the last episode aired.

RATING - R (sexual references)

A/N - Written for the Darkfic 100 Challenge at LJ, this stroy comprises two of the challenges #41 Fixation and #46 Wicked. They were originally designed to work seperately, but they made an interesting way of contrasting two viewpoints. Also both are written in the first person.

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Action and Consequence - Part I

Action

I waited near the back to the cave, watching the suns though the entrance.

There was nothing I could do now but wait, but I couldn't stop my thoughts going over and over the nights events. How had I let it happen? How had I gone this far? Everything I thought I knew was wrong or different, as if I'd awoken from a very deep sleep.

I was hardly able to comprehend what had happened between us; but I still wanted to see him again, and feel him again, and I was ready to risk everything just for a few stolen moments of desperate passion.

But it was dangerous, so very, very dangerous. Someone could find me, even hidden under my Cloak. Anyone could be here. _Anyone_. Maybe that knowledge made it all the more exciting: the fact that I might get caught.

I kept the Cloak pulled up as waited for him. I knew he would keep his promise and come to meet me again, here, now. He had been earnest, almost too sincere, and I wondered once again if he had planned everything down to the final detail. More question resurfaced. How had he found me, last night, when I had needed him most? How had he known how I would react? And how had he known about this cave? Had he planned the whole thing for months, even years? Had he schemed and manouvered me into this position?

I didn't care. Since that one moment of fear and clarity months ago, I'd known exactly what I wanted. Had he known that? I wasn't absolutely sure, but I suspected he didn't; the look on his face as I'd kissed _him_ had hinted. So what if he'd schemed and fantasised, as I had done exactly the same, and taken whatever opportunities I'd been given. _That one touch was all it took…_

I shivered, and closed my eyes to relive the past in the glorious detail of memory.

Last night I had been touched properly, I'd lost my virginity to a man I adored, and who adored me in return. It had been painful and I was still bleeding, as it was only a few hours ago.

The aching pleasure I felt had been replaced by a dull and lingering glow. But I hurt, and there were times I felt as though I could hardly keep standing. My body felt light as if I might fall and float away, but I felt stronger too, filled with a new purpose that I'd hoped for, but never dreamt I would obtain.

If I'd been with the rest of them today, I would never have been able to keep it a secret. They might have seen the marks of our passion on my shoulders and neck. Diana was observant, and clever, and knew me very well. Diana would have guessed instantly. And she would have demanded details. I couldn't give details. I didn't dare, knowing what they would say.

Suddenly, I was aware of someone else with me. Was it him, was he there, as he'd promised? Slowly, my heart thumping in my chest, I opened my eyes.

_Venger._

The Arch-Mage was waiting in the mouth of the cave, and I froze, unable to breathe. What a maelstrom of emotions! I'd never experienced anything like it before. He was even more beautiful than I remembered. His huge wings were folded back, and he swept into the cave proudly, his head held high. I could see the glint of light in his eyes, the small curve of a smile on his lips. My heart almost stopped.

He looked around, he must have known I was there, but he couldn't see me. Then the smile grew.

'Sheila!' His voice became a low purr echoing round the cave, and I couldn't hold back. I tore off my Cloak and ran forward to kiss him.

But it didn't stop at a single kiss, at that moment, I don't think ever of us could stop ever again. Soon I was tearing at his robe, encouraging him to lift my skirt and take me as fast as possible. Our love was as frantic then as we had been gentle the night before. I fought against his self-control, pushing myself further and harder than ever before. We came together as one in a way I had never believed possible, a fixed point of perfection that I would not forget.

Then, in the serene afterglow of passion, we made our plans and gave our promises. This world was ours to do with as we wished.

Nothing was ever the same again.

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	2. Chapter 2 Consequence

Action and Consequence Part II

Consequence

It could never be _her_ fault, so I always got the blame.

Whenever anything went wrong, it was never Sheila's fault (or even Diana's). Hank was always too protective, looking for someone else to accuse. And it was usually me; I'd always been the easy target for him, for all of them.

I knew something was wrong, but it was easier to ignore the problem rather than help, I'd never been very good at helping people, especially people I cared about. _She's crying because you teased her. _She cried, and it was my fault. _She's not talking because of you. She's not happy because of you, you, YOU_!

Hank couldn't see what I could, and he refused to even consider it. I might not have understood the source, but I recognised the symptoms: Diana and Kosar; Bobby and Terri; Presto and Varla. Oh, yes, I recognised the symptoms, all right! You would have to have been blind, or too wrapped up in your own world to notice. But I think that Hank just didn't want to see, he kept hoping that it was an act, or a passing phase. And when that didn't work, he would take his frustration out on me.

The day she went missing, it was me who got the blame, predictably enough. Hank assumed that I should have sensed that something was wrong, just because I was the last one to see her; I'd woken her for the early watch. The fact that she'd waited until I was asleep, then gone off on her own seemed obvious, but Hank was convinced something was wrong. I thought something was wrong as well, but he wasn't going to listen to me, and my "insinuations"!

Hank lectured (or maybe "shouted at" is more appropriate) me for about an hour, ignoring my suggestion that we should go to look for her. We did search, eventually, when it suited our exalted Ranger, but there was no sign of her anywhere, not a crushed leaf, a bent blade of grass or a partial footprint! And this time Dungeonmaster _didn't_ appear, with a redundant riddle and the outdated hope of home.

So there was nothing better to do but wait in icy and resentful silence to see if she returned.

Much, _much_ later (after an afternoon of wordless blame and cold-shouldering), as the suns set, she walked into our camp with her head held high, and I finally understood something had changed permanently. She ignored our questions, she barely seemed aware of us at all.

'I'm not your friend anymore,' she said.

There was no inflection in her tone, and the look on her face as she spoke was as bland as if she'd asked for a drink of water. There were more demands for answers from the others, especially Hank and Bobby, but it was all just a distraction.

A moment later he was there towering protectively over her, his hand resting on her shoulder; Venger the great Arch-Mage of the Realm, and behind him his legions of Orcs. Only then did she smile.

There was nowhere to run. We were too horrified to even try.

I'd thought he would have killed us without hesitation. But the Orcs just took our weapons and kept us under guard. And perhaps that was worse as, instead, the two lovers kissed as we watched.

The others turned away. But I didn't, not until the spectacle was over, as if that was going to help us or reveal the hidden answers.

I saw clearly the look of utter revulsion on Hank's face, as the Thief entwined with her lover in a fiery embrace. They thought she'd been tricked or enchanted, seduced against her will. But I saw what the others didn't; the glint of wicked pleasure in Sheila's eyes as they stepped apart. And I remember wondering who had trapped who, and how.

I didn't understand then, of course. Even if I had, I don't think it would have helped. I could never have told the others, they wouldn't have believed me. Certainly Hank blamed me for turning her against them; until the day he died he didn't speak a single word to me, not even in our darkest hours when Presto died and Bobby was spirited away.

I know now that Venger wasn't destined to last long with her at his side, as her passion was only matched by her relentless fury. But even that did us no good, when the siblings rose against Dungeonmaster they were as formidable as the Arch-Mage himself. And once they had decided on destruction, nothing stood in their way.

You might call it skill, or even be disparaging and call it "luck" (I would agree with either) but I survived it all; from that first day to the bitterest ending of all when everything had gone, and I was alone in a cursed Realm with no way home.

No one escaped her wrath. No one, that is, except me.

Perhaps I was not such an easy target after all.

Or perhaps that was my punishment for not helping a friend.

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End file.
